Monday, November 17, 2008

Reason #328 That I Suck

is that I forgot Poem Sunday. Which I've been saving up poems for... well, forever. And so, I now decree that it is Poem Monday. Yes! Poem Monday! Bigger, better, and... on Monday.

Adam and Eveby Tony Hoagland

I wanted to punch her right in the mouth and that's the truth.

After all, we had gotten from the station of the flickering glancesto the station of the hungry mouths,from the shoreline of skirts and faded jeansto the ocean of unencumbered skin,from the perilous mountaintop of the apartment stepsto the sanctified valley of the bed--

the candle fluttering upon the dresser top, its little yellow bladesending up its whiff of waxy smoke,and I could smell her readinesslike a dank cloud above a field,when at the crucial moment, the all-important moment,the moment standing at attention,she held her milk white hand agitatedlyover the entrance to her body and said No,

and my brain burst into flame.

If I couldn't sink myself in her like a dark spuror dissolve into her like a clod thrown in a river,

can I go all the way in the saying, and sayI wanted to punch her right in the face?Am I allowed to say that,that I wanted to punch her right in her soft face?

Or is the saying just another instance of rapaciousness,just another way of doing what I wanted then,by saying it?

Is a man just an animal, and is a woman not an animal?Is the name of the animal power?Is it true that the man wishes to see the womanhurt with her own pleasure

and the woman wishes to see the expression on the man's faceof someone falling from great height,that the woman thrills with the power of her weaknessand the man is astonished by the weakness of his power?

Is the sexual chase a hunt where the animal insidedrags the human downinto a jungle made of vowels,hormonal undergrowth of sweat and hair,

or is this an obsolte idealodged like a fossilin the brain of the apewho lives inside the man?

Can the fossile be surgically removedor dissolved, or redesignedso the man can be a human being, like a woman?

Does the woman see the man as a housewhere she might live in safety,and does the man see the woman as a doorthrough which he might escapethe hated prison of himself,and when the door is locked,does he hate the door instead?Does he learn to hate all doors?

I've seen rain turn into snow then back to rain,and I've seen making love turn into fuckingthen back to making love,and no one covered up their faces out of shame,no one rose and walked into the lonely maw of night.

But where was there, in fact, to go?Are some things better left unsaid?Shall I tell you her name?Can I say it again,that I wanted to punch her right in the face?

Until we say the truth, there can be no tenderness.As long as there is desire, we will not be safe.